Well, the landlord's barn cat, who's a tiny, black thing, and no youngster, turned up in the hayloft with a dead kestrel. Two bites in the back of the neck, a clean snap, and not another mark anywhere on bird or cat. I can only think she was trying to take out the competition for the mouse population, and decided i'd better stay on her good side.

Among my housecats, Pandora, the eldest female, hunts tea bags, in the hopes that these will involve catnip. And Otter, the big grey and white "alpha male" once did a turn as hunter/fashion consultant: i had brought up a load of laundry, and left it unattended while waiting for the last load to finish. Otter burrowed into the middle of it, dragged out a pair of underwear, and shredded it. I dismissed it as a bizarre-but-isolated adolescent cat escapade, until the next time i did laundry -- he burrowed into the clean load before i could fold it, dragged out the only other pair of the exact same style, and shredded THAT, too. He's never attacked another piece of clothing since, and it's been ten years now...